Hurt
by evanescentflame421
Summary: Hermione and Draco were friends before the war broke out, but Hermione can't stand that he will be on the opposite side. The war has just ended and Hermione gets terrible news. Songfic to "Hurt" by Christina Aguilera.


_**A/N: So, this is my first Harry Potter fic. Draco and Hermione have been friends since fourth year, but end up on opposing sides for the war. The war has just ended and Hermione finds out that Draco has passed away.**_

_**Disclaimer: The song "Hurt" belongs to CHristina Aguilera. I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, then most of the people who got killed off would be alive (Dobby!) and Hermione wouldn't be with a man who has the emotional range of a teaspoon.**_

_**...**_

**Hurt**

She ran up the stairs, flight after flight, needing fiercely to get to her destination. She'd been waiting all day - since she'd heard the news - and now was the only time she could get away without worrying Ron or Harry. They'd been keeping a careful eye on her all day, saying that she was acting strange. Which, admittedly, she was. She'd managed to handle things quite well, considering the war had just ended two days ago, but today was her breaking point. Today she wasn't able to hold the smile on her face that was supposed to encourage people to look forward to the future, to a new beginning. Not when she was facing a heartbreaking ending.

When she finally reached her destination, she paused only for a moment to catch her breath, and then began pacing. After a few seconds the door appeared before her and she flung the door open. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then entered the room.

Her eyes opened and her breath caught in her throat.

The room was about the size of the Gryffindor common room, and it looked exactly as it had when they'd last met there. The walls were a deep grey color, just a couple of shades darker than _his_ eyes. The glass case filled with books up against the left-hand wall. On the right hand wall there were shelves and cabinets filled with various statues and knickknacks that had no real use but were nice to look at. The wall opposite of the entranceway housed a small fireplace with pictures of their families, her friends, and of them together on the mantel above the fireplace. He didn't keep pictures of his friends - he said he came here to "escape those bloody imbeciles." In the center of the room was a small wooden table, a black couch and a black chair sat on opposite sides of it.

Black. It was a good color. A neutral one. His favorite, actually - most assumed it was green.

She was rather fond of it, too. It was such a complex color. It represented evil and death, but there was also something very beautiful about the color.

The room was exactly the same as when they'd last met.

Except it wasn't.

Because he wasn't there.

She closed the door behind her and walked towards the dancing flames of the firelight. Scanning the mantel, she gingerly picked up her favorite picture of them, cradling it against her chest and sat down on the couch.

_**Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face  
>You told me how proud you were but I walked away<br>If only I knew what I know today**_

She glanced around the room again and closed her eyes, recalling the last words that they exchanged before they would be thrown on opposite sides of the war.

"_You are absolutely ridiculous!" she shouted while shaking her head._

_He was quiet for a long moment, staring into the fire, his expression sullen. They'd been going at it for half of an hour and he was tired. They always went around in circles whenever it came to this. _

_He finally let out a mirthless laugh, "Spirits, Granger, you're so bloody _good_!" He looked up at her. "I always admired that about you. Even though it can be quite annoying." He paused. "I want you to know, no matter what happens, I am extremely proud of you. A little jealous, in fact, but extremely proud," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, "and amazed." He stroked her cheek and she forgot how to breathe. "I am proud of your courage, and your spirit, and who you are - who I can never be. I want you to know that I," he locked eyes with her and inhaled deeply, "I love you."_

_She tore her eyes away from his. She couldn't handle seeing the emotion that they held. She cleared her throat and took a step away. "Yes, well, I wish I could say the same for you." With those final words she left the room, and severed any that held them together._

_**I would hold you in my arms  
>I would take the pain away<br>Thank you for all you've done  
>Forgive all your mistakes<br>There's nothing I wouldn't do  
>To hear your voice again<br>Sometimes I want to call you, but I know you won't be there**_

If she could go back and relive those last moments, she would change them. She hated that those were the last words she said to him before the war broke out. She hated that _that_ was the last thing she did in _their_ room. Their place of solace. The only place that either of them could turn to for the last year of their Hogwarts lives. She wanted nothing more than to hold him and tell him everything was all right, just like she did so many times before.

She ignored the pain that was gathering in the pit of her stomach and looked at the photograph in her hand. It was a muggle photograph, taken with the disposable camera her parents had sent her. They requested many pictures from her.

She took it the night of the Yule Ball. It was after her row with Ron. She'd gone out to the lake so that she wouldn't have to face the other girls just yet. She knew she'd be ambushed and interrogated all night. No one except for Ginny knew that she was going with Viktor because she knew everyone would make a big deal out of it. She didn't understand why, though. Viktor was a person, just like everyone else.

She took the photo just before they'd gone back inside the castle. He'd come outside to check on her, since he'd seen Ronald's lovely outburst.

_She stood in front of the lake, desperately wishing that she could submerge herself in its depths and forget about how awful the night had turned out._

"_What's a pretty lady like yourself doing all alone out here when she should be inside, having the time of her life?" A cloak was placed around her shoulders and, realizing how cold she was, she wrapped it tighter around herself. "Did Krum try something? If he did, I'll hex his balls off."_

_She barked a laugh, "Please, he wouldn't dare. No, I was just contemplating how to get the giant squid out of the lake long enough so that it can eat Ronald."_

"_I could always push him in, you know. I wouldn't mind." He wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned into him._

_She giggled. "That would be quite lovely, thank you."_

_He wiped away a tear that had escaped and was rolling down her cheek. "Anything to piss off Weaselbee," he gave her a small smile. "I'm sorry."_

_She gave him a questioning look._

"_I saw him yelling at you," he shrugged. "I should have hit him."_

"_Don't be silly. You mustn't associate yourself with a Mudblood, even if she does look bloody fantastic."_

_He glared at her. "Don't call yourself that."_

"_Oh, stop it. I was only joking. You know I'm practically immune to that word," she waved her hand dismissively._

"_I'm sorry that I called you that."_

_She shook her head. "You haven't called me that since the start of the term. You are quite forgiven." She gave him a small smile and played with his hand, then looked up at him, serious. "You do realize that you can't stop calling me that? If you do, people will get suspicious."_

_He nodded, "Yes, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to enjoy it."_

"_Good, because if you did then I would be forced to hex _your_ balls off. And you know I bloody well can."_

"_I'm not doubting you," he laced his fingers through hers and brought her hands to his lips. "How 'bout this, every time I call you a 'filthy Mudblood,' I actually mean 'my lovely, Granger'?"_

"_All right, and every time I call you an 'annoying, bouncing ferret,' I actually mean 'my handsome, bouncing ferret'?"_

_He chuckled, "Oh, so you think I'm handsome, eh?"_

_She giggled and smacked his arm playfully, "You're such a prat!"_

"_I know."_

"_But you're my prat, so I guess I can forgive you."_

_He pressed his lips to her temple. "Thank Merlin."_

_**I'm sorry for blaming you  
><strong>__**For everything I just couldn't do  
>And I've hurt myself by hurting you<strong>_

She stared at his unmoving face. He wore a bright smile and she was laughing. He had been confused by the disposable camera and she'd promised to show him how to operate it as soon as she got a picture of them together. He beamed and urged her to hurry up so that he could, quote, "play with the bloody contraption." He'd used up the rest of her film on the lake. Half of the pictures he took were pitch black because he kept forgetting to put the flash on.

She ran her finger over his cheeks, caressing the cool glass that protected the picture. She placed the frame on the table and curled up against the edge of the couch, staring at the fire.

_**Some days I feel broke inside, but I won't admit  
>Sometimes I just want to hide 'cause it's you I miss<br>You know it's so hard to say goodbye when it comes to this**_

She pictured him standing before her, the shadows of the fire dancing across his face, just like they did when they last met.

"_You wanted to see me?" she asked, pulling his attention away from the flickering flames._

_He nodded, "Let's sit."_

_He made his way over to his chair and she went to sit opposite of him on her couch. She'd had a bad feeling in her stomach all day, and the nervousness on his face confirmed her suspicion that he had bad news. His hands were shaking slightly and he suddenly found the table to be very interesting._

"_Spit it out, will you!" she snapped. She hadn't meant to, but the fact that he wouldn't meet her eye was doing nothing to help her uneasiness._

"_They're coming," he said, still not looking at her. "Soon."_

"_What!" she shrieked, jumping off the couch. "They're coming _here_! How the hell do they plan to get in?"_

_He bit his lip and began massaging his temples. _

"_Do _not_ make me ask you again! You know how much I hate repeating myself!"_

"_Me," he whispered, hoping she wouldn't hear him._

"_Sorry?" she asked disbelievingly. "Did you just say, 'me'?"_

_He didn't respond. _

"_Draco Lucius Malfoy, tell me you did not just tell me that you are planning to let _Death Eaters _into Hogwarts!"_

"_I already opened a gateway for them. They're coming, but I'm not sure when."_

_There was a resounding - _SMACK! _- that filled the room as her hand made contact with the side of his face._

"_Are you trying to kill me? Me and all of the other muggle-born students here, 'cause you know damn well we're going to be the first thing that they go after!" she yelled._

_He stood up so that he was towering over her. "Have you gone mad? You know that I would never hurt you!"_

"_Then what do you call this!" she demanded. "Is that what you're going to be saying when they Avada me? Huh?"_

"_That's not going to happen! They're not supposed to target the students!" _

"_Then what the hell are they targeting?" When she got no answer, she continued, "And what if someone decides to add muggle-born students to the targeting group?"_

"_They won't!"_

"_What if they do?" She shook her head and began pacing. "I knew we should've gone to Dumbledore when you first showed me that blasted Mark! But you didn't want to!" Turning on her heel, she asked, "Why didn't you want to?"_

"_You wouldn't understand!" he said looking away from her._

_She took his hands and held them in hers. "Then explain it to me, Draco!" she pleaded._

_He pulled away and slumped back down on his chair. "Look, I just wanted to warn you. I knew you'd be furious with me if I said nothing."_

"_I'm furious with you now!" He was giving her a headache. "It's not too late, you know. You can still switch sides."_

"_No, I can't."_

_She sighed. He was just so stubborn. "Come, sit with me."_

"_Pardon?" he asked, surprised._

"_I told you to come sit with me. It's been days since we've spoken and I miss you. Plus, I have a feeling we're going to start arguing again soon, and I'd rather spend a few minutes just being with you before we have at it again. You know that this topic always turns ugly. I just want to be with you before the defensive walls go up."_

_He made his way over and held her. He lifted her up slightly and shifted himself so that his back was against the arm of the couch and she was leaning into him. _

"_I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I just wanted to warn you. I care about you so much."_

_She ran her fingers through his hair and sighed. It always made her heart ache when he spoke like that. "Apparently not enough," she murmured back, burying herself deeper into his embrace._

_**Would you tell me I was wrong?  
>Would you help me understand?<br>Are you looking down upon me?  
>Are you proud of who I am?<br>There's nothing I wouldn't do  
>To have just one more chance<br>To look into your eyes, and see you looking back**_

She adjusted herself so that she was facing the back of the couch. Imagining him there, she reached to touch the air where his face would have been. She choked back a sob and waited for the tears forming at the back of her eyes to retreat back to where they came from.

She looked up at the ceiling picturing the sky above it - picturing the stars that they gazed at so many times. She imagined him watching her from above - up in Heaven with the Christian God of the Muggle world. Surely if there was such a place, he would be up there with Him. Draco Malfoy was not what most people classified as "good," but she knew that is what he was - deep down - though he'd never admit it. He probably never even realized it.

She frowned as she recalled the empty space beside her. As much as she hoped he was up in the sky where all of the "good" souls went when they passed, she wanted nothing more than for him to be lying next to her.

She'd just helped her best friend defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard of all time, but she would face Voldemort alone if that would bring him back to her.

She would give up the life that everyone expected her to live. The life where she was one-third of the Golden Trio. The future that promised nothing but fame, glory, and happiness. Of course there would be struggle at first, but after the first few years the Wizarding world would be thriving and she and her two best friends would get amazing careers. Then, of course, she and Ronald would get married and have twenty kids just like everyone thought they should. Because they were "_meant to be_."

She would give that up - hell, she wouldn't even _want_ it - if it meant she could have him back.

She didn't want it, period. She never did. She'd only ever wanted _him_.

She would give anything to have him here with her again, to run her fingers through his soft hair and gaze into those silver eyes that always captivated her.

_**I'm sorry for blaming you  
><strong>__**For everything I just couldn't do  
>And I've hurt myself<strong>_

She ran through all of their years at Hogwarts together.

She remembered the first three years when he tortured her, mocked her for her blood-status, and bullied her friends. She remembered when she punched him in third year. He admitted later on that he cried once Crabbe and Goyle left him alone in the hospital wing.

She remembered fourth year, the year they became friends. Harry and Ron had been avoiding each other and she'd been worrying herself sick over Harry's wellbeing. She needed an escape from the strained relationship and the research that she was doing to help Harry stay alive. He was scared. He knew what was coming, and he knew that he would be forced to get involved with it. He needed a place of solace. She's found him by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, looking distraught. She, being the Gryffindor she was, went over to try to help him. He'd tried to get her to leave at first, but stopped the moment she threw her arms around him. After hesitating, he cautiously wrapped his arms around her torso. They said nothing.

Then there was fifth year when they would sneak out late at night via Harry's cloak. They would go out by the lake and talk about what a nasty bint Umbridge was. They would make fun of her wardrobe and her obsession with cats, and they would rant about her ridiculous her decrees were. When she'd gotten back from the battle at the Ministry, she introduced him to Room of Requirement and it became their place. He sat with her as she recalled the events and wiped away the tears when she talked about Sirius.

In their sixth year she was the first he showed the Mark to. She didn't hex him or run away in fear like he knew anyone else would. She held him. She let him cry on her shoulder as she rocked him. He told her about the pain, both emotional and physical, that he had gone through over the summer break. He told her he didn't want the Mark. He confessed that he did once before, but then he wanted to saw his arm off. He wanted nothing to do with Voldemort. She told him that he could fix it - that he could go to Dumbledore. He refused, and she didn't press the issue. She let him continue crying. She whispered to him that she was there and that he wasn't alone. She promised him that he would never have to be alone.

_**If I had just one more day,  
>I would tell you how much that<br>I've missed you since you've been away  
>Oh, it's dangerous<br>It's so out of line, to try to turn back time**_

She got up and walked over to his chair. She sat down and inhaled. It still smelled like him.

Before she could reign it in, her mind brought him there with her. She imagined what would happen if she could see him one last time.

_He would wrap his arms around her and carry her to the couch. He would sit down on with her still clinging to him as if her very life depended on it. Because it would. He would rock her back and forth like a child. And they would stay like that for a long while._

_After that, she'd break the silence and ask him how he was. He would tell her that he was fine. She'd give him a look, then he'd sigh and tell her the truth. He'd tell her about all that went on while they were separated. He's tell her how much he missed her and how much he hated being away. She would run her hands through his hair and stroke his cheek, telling him that it was okay - that they were together now._

_Then, he would ask her how she was. She would tell her that she would be all right. He would tell her that it was okay to not be all right at that moment. He would tell her to let it all out - everything she'd been feeling since she walked away from him that night. And she would. Because he was with her now, and he was going to hold on to her for as long as he would be able to. She would finally be safe after all this time. _

_She would cry. She would tell him how much she hated herself for walking away and ending things the way she did. She would tell him about the ache that she felt whenever she thought about him, and how she'd never missed anything as much as she missed him. She would tell him that she'd never felt more alone than she did when she walked away from him. She would tell him that she was wrong, and he right - that she didn't understand, but she understood now. She would tell him that she knew he did what he had to in order to protect his family. She would apologize for all the times she called him a coward and for not understanding sooner. She would beg for his forgiveness. _

_He would give it to her. _

_She would look at him, amazed by how easily he could forgive her._

_She would apologize again._

_He'd ask why._

_She would say that she was sorry that she never told him that she loved him. She would tell him that she was sorry that it took so long for her to admit to herself. And she would apologize for being too late._

_He would puller closer - though it would seem impossible - and tell her that she was forgiven. All that mattered was that they were together now, and that he was so happy to hear her say those words._

_Then he would kiss her. All of their love would be poured into the kiss. It would be the thing she held on to when her world was falling apart._

_They would pull away and she'd lay her head on his chest._

_She would be home._

She was brought back to reality by a strangled cry that had escaped from her. She started sobbing. All of the tears that she'd blinked away flowed down her cheeks. All the pain she'd repressed hit her like a Cruciatus curse.

She settled deeper into his chair and let herself come undone. She knew this was the only chance she would get, because the second she left that room, she would be forced to face the future just like everyone else. She knew that this was the last chance she would have to sit in his chair and breathe in his scent. This was the last time she would ever be in their room. The place that belonged to them. She knew this was the only opportunity she had to truly mourn Draco Malfoy.

_**I'm sorry for blaming you  
><strong>__**For everything I just couldn't do  
>And I've hurt myself<br>By hurting you**_

A few days later a memorial service was held for all those that had fallen during the War.

She went to his grave that night.

She placed a white rose on his headstone.

Tears formed in her eyes as she traced her fingers over the name carved in the stone.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," she began shakily, "you are the most amazing man that I have ever met." A tear spilled over. Then another. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel anything otherwise. I'm sorry if I ever hurt you. I'm sorry for not understanding why you did what you had to do. I'm sorry that I couldn't apologize to you sooner. I'm sorry for walking out on you that night.

"You are my best friend in every way. The times I spent with you are the most treasured memories that I have. You will be what I think of to get me through the day for the rest of my life. You were my God-given solace and the only person I could really open up to. You are all that I could have ever asked for. I love you, Draco Malfoy. I always will.

"And I am so sorry that I'm telling you all of this too late."


End file.
